


overjoyed, over you, overnight

by thewriterofperfectdisasters



Series: Fic A Day In May [9]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, and then ian accidentally takes the wrong phone, ficadayinmay, happy coincidences, kind of future fic?, lots of texting, mickey gets really drunk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-18
Updated: 2014-05-18
Packaged: 2018-01-25 14:23:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1651844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewriterofperfectdisasters/pseuds/thewriterofperfectdisasters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The fifth thing he noticed was that a phone sat beside the pile – it just wasn’t his phone. It was the same kind of phone as his, and in that moment, Mickey hated Mandy for making him buy one of those stupid fucking iPhones. Everyone had them. The picked the phone up and turned it over to make sure it wasn’t his, and sure enough, there was some dorky magic 8 ball case there, instead of his random fucking camo one. Shit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	overjoyed, over you, overnight

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from 'Lock Me Up' by The Cab. (Today's writing song.) (Also 'Boys Don't Cry' by Natalia Kills, which was originally today's writing song, but quickly switched to the other one.) (Both are worth listening to.)

Mickey had very reluctantly gone to Vegas with Mandy for her birthday.

It would’ve been better if it was just them and a few people he knew, but _noooo_. Mandy invited like fifty goddamn people, mostly screaming girls and overly straight guys keen to prove their masculinity by fucking as many of them possible in the three day, two night trip. They tried to get Mickey in on their little game, but he just rolled his eyes and told them they were fucking pathetic pieces of shit.

They bought tickets for the cheapest, shittiest airline they could find, and arrived in Vegas as it was getting dark. They took taxis to their motel, and dumped their luggage before going out and celebrating Mandy’s birthday.

Well, everyone except Mickey. He hated his sister’s friends and opted to stay in his motel room and sleep instead. He told Mandy he wasn’t feeling great so that she’d get off his case, and ended up promising to go hard on the alcohol the next night instead.

When push came to shove, Mickey had learned to hate how his sister made people go through with their promises. For anyone else, there was the threat of violence and a baseball bat, but for Mickey, she turned on the tears. She sobbed and clung to him until he caved and agreed to go out, even though it was the reason he had come in the first fucking place.

Drink after drink after drink was put in his hand, and he downed all of it, because why the fuck not. After a few hours, Mickey got to that point where he knew he wouldn’t remember anything the next day, and he thought it was great, so he went out and did whatever he wanted, so not even he could be embarrassed by his own actions.

 

* * *

 

When Mickey woke up, he noticed five things in quick succession – three of which he picked up on before he even moved.

One: he had a pounding headache, which meant he must’ve gone way overboard on the alcohol last night. The light streaming in through the open window felt like bits of glass slowly making their way into his brain.

Two: he was in a motel room he didn’t recognise, naked in the middle of a queen sized bed, and the sheets covering the other half of the bed had been slept in.

Three: his ass _ached_. And in a really good way. So at least that was something positive.

Mickey pulled on his boxers as he got up to investigate further, even though he figured that if anyone else was in the room, they had already seen him naked – seeing as Mickey had been lying on the _very_ edge of a dried pool of jizz. It was more out of a kind of politeness to anyone who might’ve walked past the windows – apparently he and the other person (Mickey assumed it was a dude) hadn’t bothered with curtains last night.

The room wasn’t really that big, but it had a little bathroom accessible through a door off to one side, and a kitchenette with a table and two chairs on the other. Mickey checked the bathroom, but there was no one there. No clothes, shoes, or anything else obviously not his lying around.

The fourth thing Mickey noticed as he wandered into the kitchen, was that sitting on the little table was a pile of photos – a mix of polaroids and those little sheets you got at photobooths.

The fifth thing he noticed was that a phone sat beside the pile – it just wasn’t his phone. It was the same _kind_ of phone as his, and in that moment, Mickey hated Mandy for making him buy one of those stupid fucking iPhones. Everyone had them. The picked the phone up and turned it over to make sure it wasn’t his, and sure enough, there was some dorky magic 8 ball case there, instead of his random fucking camo one. Shit.

Mickey rubbed his eyes and sat down with a tired sigh. He picked up the photos and went through them, studying each one. As he went through the stack he got more and more confused.

The polariods were of him in what seemed to be a bunch of different clubs, dancing with random people – girls, boys, people in masks, people in fluorescent feathered headpieces. Apparently Mickey was considerably more drunk than he thought he had been. He never danced willingly unless he was straddling the fence between being conscious and blacked out drunk. Mickey was surprised when all those random heads and faces were replaced suddenly with one constant head that appeared through the rest of the photos in the stack.

It was obviously a guy – the broad shoulders and angular jaw that appeared in a few photos showed that. His face was never in focus in the photos. He had apparently really been getting into the dancing, because he was always blurred, so the only thing Mickey got from the photos to use as an identifier was the red hair.

A few of the polaroids, and the majority of the photo booth shots, were of Mickey and this carrot top making out. Mickey didn’t know this dude’s name, and didn’t even know what the fuck he looked like. Ah well, Mickey had a thing for carrot tops, so if he managed to get his ins with one while completely pissed, he was happy. And also strangely proud of himself.

Mickey picked the abandoned phone up in an attempt for some answers, right as it went off with a text.

It was from his own number, and the text read:

_unlock code is 4242, btw this is the dude you fucked last night_

 

Mickey unlocked the phone and sent a reply to his own number. It felt weird texting off this guy’s phone. He suddenly missed his own phone.

_picked up the wrong phone huh_

_yeah but it’s not my fault that every person on the planet has a fucking iphone_

_hah. why’d you leave?_

_had a flight to catch, grabbed your phone in the rush. sorry bout that._

_you're not in vegas anymore?_

_afraid not_

_fuck_

_and i won’t be back any time soon_

_yeah me either. where you live? kinda want my phone back_

_chicago_

_me too_

_handy. i'm actually making a few stops before getting back though_

_jesus okay when are you getting back then_

_uh... tuesday after next_

 

Mickey counted in his head. Okay. Today was a Sunday so that meant...   


_that’s like nine days_

_yeah sorry dude_

_so are we just gonna use each other’s phones until then_

_is that okay? not like for texting or calling sprees or anything_

_don’t really got a choice do i_

_not really. sorry._

_whatever man._

_...sorry but what’s your name? i was calling you jacob but that’s weird now because i have a brother called jacob_

_uh i'm mickey. what's yours?_

_ian. you were calling me carrot for a good amount of the night._

_hahaha how do you even remember this_

_i wasn’t wasted. can't drink on my meds._

_oh. okay. well i'm gonna go shower now but who paid for the room? gotta take a cab back to my motel_

_nah i paid, dw._

_kay. text me when you’re back in chicago and we can meet up somewhere_

_yeah okay_

_and uh don’t break my phone? i actually paid for it_

_??? as opposed to_

_stealing it_

_oh. don't break mine either._

_i'll try_

 

* * *

 

Mickey had just arrived back at his motel when he got the first text.

 

_hey can you do me a favor_

_yeah what_

_can you text two people in my phone – fiona and lip and tell them i'm not on my phone and to text YOUR number if they need me_

_uh sure okay_

_thanks_

_can you do me a favor now_

_mm?_

_don't answer any of my texts. at all._

_sure_

_not that i'm expecting any, but just in case_

_yeah that’s fine. and someone called mandy has been texting you the whole morning?_

_ignore her. i'll talk to her later._

_okay thanks. i'm getting a text every like three minutes._

Mickey rolled his eyes sent a text to the two people Ian requested, explaining the situation briefly and giving them his number before he panicked and send a text to Ian. Himself? Sent a text to his number, anyway.

 

_fuck man do those two know you’re gay?_

_who, lip and fiona?_

_yeah_

_yeah i'm out_

_oh_

_why? aren't you?_

_fuck off_

_so that’s a no_

_if you met my family you’d understand_

_oh_

Mickey had zero interest in discussing the topic further, so it was pretty lucky when Mandy burst into his room and sat on his bed, watching him pack.

‘Where were you last night?’

‘Uh... Out.’ Mickey said, realising he had never really unpacked in the first place.

‘I was texting you the whole morning.’ she said, eyebrow raised.

‘I heard.’

‘Why didn’t you reply?’

‘Don’t have my phone.’ Mickey muttered, zipping his bag.

‘What?’

‘I uh. Met someone. We fucked, they took my phone instead of their own.’ Mickey took Ian’s phone out of his pocket and waved it at Mandy. ‘Told you it was a bad idea to get a fucking iPhone.’

‘Are you getting yours back?’

‘Yeah. They live in Chicago. Making a few stops before going home though.’

‘So you’re gonna meet up and swap them back?’ Mandy nodded. ‘Good plan.’

‘Yeah.’ Mickey turned the phone over in his hands.

‘What’s his name?’ Mandy asked quietly.

Mickey glanced at her before sighing in resignation and saying, ‘Ian.’

‘He good looking?’

‘Dunno.’ Mickey shrugged. ‘Can’t remember what he looks like, except that he’s a redhead.’

Mandy smiled wickedly. ‘Go through his photos.’

‘Why the fuck would I do that?’

‘Find out how hot he is!’ Mandy snatched the phone out of Mickey’s hands. ‘Passcode?’

Mickey rolled his eyes and typed in _4242_ before passing it back and flopping backwards. ‘I don’t want to be part of your snooping.’

Mandy was silent. ‘Holy fuck, Mick.’

‘What?’ he asked, shooting back up. ‘Did you find a picture?’

Mandy nodded, looking seriously impressed. ‘Look at this.’ she said, thrusting the phone back at him.

On the screen was a picture of a redheaded guy, green eyes twinkling, as he grinned and flipped off the person behind the phone. The next photo was of the same guy and a redhaired girl, both smiling at the camera. Next was a video, the starting image being the redhaired guy – who Mickey had realised was Ian – wearing a tank top and standing in a doorway, arms extended above his head

‘Play it, play it, play it.’ Mandy chanted, finger hovering over the screen.

Mickey dithered momentarily before curiosity got the better of him and he pressed play.

The video started, and Ian started doing pull ups, grunting whenever his chin was level with the top of the doorframe. Then he paused and stared accusingly at the phone. ‘Fuck off, Lip.’ Ian said, taking a hand off his pull up frame and giving the camera the finger. The person behind the phone snickered and shut off the camera.

Mandy clapped a hand to Mickey’s shoulder. ‘You have done well, my brother.’

Mickey stared down at the phone like it held the secrets to the universe. ‘Holy fuck.’

‘Looks like it was a holy fuck, yeah. Anyway, we have to leave for the airport. Let’s get going.’

Mickey nodded and grabbed his bag, following Mandy out of the room.

 

* * *

 

Mickey felt a bit guilty going through Ian’s phone without telling him, so he sent off a text to him.

 

_hey uh don’t get pissy at me but i sorta went through your photos. well my sister did._

_uh why_

_i couldn’t remember what you looked like_

_oh haha that’s okay then_

_why did you go somewhere with me?_

_what do you mean?_

_you could’ve fucked anyone_

_oh. uh. idk. i thought you were kinda cute, and you were funny... also it was your idea_

_fuck_

_nah it was good_

_uh_

_trust me, it was. very._

_thanks?_

_;)_

Mickey rolled his eyes. Flirty fuckin’ carrot top. He switched the phone off as they boarded the plane, and settled into his seat beside Mandy for the flight home. With the instruction not to wake him up unless the plane was crashing, Mickey fell asleep and was dead to the world.

 

* * *

 

Mickey was glad to be home. He went straight to his room and started charging Ian’s phone. The “20% battery remaining” warning had popped up as he turned it on when they arrived back in Chicago, and, well, charging the phone seemed like a good idea.

Mickey slept for a good few hours before Mandy woke him up around 9pm by throwing a pillow at him and saying that she had made him dinner. Mickey got up and wandered into the kitchen to find a plate of chocolate chip pancakes waiting for him. He nodded his thanks as he sat down beside Mandy and started eating the food.

‘How are you feeling?’ Mandy asked with a yawn.

‘Like shit. You?’

‘Mm. Been better.’

Mickey nodded and went back to his pancakes. He finished the stack off in record time and dumped his plate in the sink. ‘I’m going to bed, and if you throw a pillow at me again, I’m gonna cut your hair off in your sleep.’ Mickey rubbed his eyes, and walked back to his room without a second glance back to his sister.

 

* * *

 

Mickey was woken up, rather rudely, might he add, by Ian’s phone going off.

_morning starshine! the earth says hello!_

_fuck off_

_not a morning person?_

_i was sleeping_

_why? it’s a beautiful day!_

_it's fuckin 7 in the morning_

_yup! just went for my morning run._

_so you’re one of those exercise people_

_yup. i miss my pull up bar :(_

_you’re pathetic_

_i know_

_can i go back to sleep now_

_yeah sorry of course_

Mickey locked the phone and turned over. Fucking stupid carrot.

He slept for a few more hours before he got up and sent another text to Ian.

 

_why the fuck did you text me_

_idk i like you_

_you’ve met me once_

_yeah and texted you_

_yippee for me_

_i like your phone case btw. i was actually in the army for a bit._

_oh really_

_yeah... i sort of left after i tried to steal a helicopter_

_you did what_

_that was an interesting time_

_what_

_mm_

_well that explains your fitness thing_

_hahahaha_

_and that you own a pull up bar_

_i think lots of people own them_

_yeah but you actually use yours_

_i do. i like keeping myself in good shape. doesn't hurt with my tips either_

_???_

_ever heard of fairytale? it's a club_

_yeah i know what it is_

_yeah i'm a dancer there_

_no fuckin way_

_mm_

_you’re a stripper???_

_dancer_

_hah i've seen your uniform. that's pretty much the least you can wear without being an actual stripper man_

_fuck off_

Mickey grinned. Fuck if he wasn’t starting to like this damn guy.

 

* * *

 

And that was how the eight remaining days passed until Ian arrived back in Chicago.

He would text Mickey in the morning with something stupidly cheery, text him throughout the day about what they were doing, and text him goodnight before they both went to sleep.

It was weird, Mickey thought. Kind of like having a boyfriend, but really, _really_ , not. Mandy noticed him texting so much, and had her eyebrows constantly raised whenever Mickey was around her and texting. She asked him a few times who he was talking to, but Mickey just shrugged, and besides – Mandy knew he was texting that cute redhead. She hoped Mickey found a way to keep their thing going after swapping phones back, because she couldn’t remember the last time she had seen her brother look so happy.

 

* * *

 

On Tuesday morning, Mickey got the usual text from Ian.

 

_good morning mick! great day today, sunrise was beautiful so i took a couple of photos on your phone :)_

_thoughtful_

_you’re welcome_

_so are you back in chicago today?_

_yup. heard of the alibi room? it’s a bar_

_yeah i know it_

_cool meet me there at like 6? i'm working tonight and kinda want my phone back_

_kay_

_can you charge it..? :)_

_i spose_

_cool thanks. see you at 6 then!_

_kay_

Mickey didn’t know where the fuck the butterflies in his stomach had come from. It might’ve had something to do with how he kept checking the time to see when he could leave to meet Ian at the Alibi Room, but he would never admit _that_.

Mickey decided around four to go and have a shower. Which, y’know, Mandy noticed.

‘Did you just have a shower?’ she asked incredulously, as Mickey stepped out of the bathroom.

‘I am allowed to have a fucking shower, Mandy, Jesus.’

Mandy snickered and rolled her eyes. ‘Off to give the phone back, then?’

‘Yup.’

‘Text me updates?’ she asked hopefully.

‘Fuck off.’ Mickey said, grabbing his coat and leaving. Who gave a shit if he was going to be early? He was allowed to go early, and because it was a bar, he was allowed to get a drink beforehand. At least that’s what he told himself.

 

* * *

 

‘Probably don’t want to go too hard on the alcohol today, Mick.’ an unfamiliar voice said, as someone slid onto the stool next to Mickey at the bar.

Mickey turned and saw the tall, redheaded boy he had been incessantly texting for the past nine days. The guy was so much better in real life. _Fucking holy hell._ ‘Assuming you’re Ian.’

Ian’s face split into a grin. ‘You’ve got my phone.’

Mickey grinned back. He couldn’t help it. ‘I do.’ he handed the phone over and received his own back.

‘Ian! Good to see you, man.’ The bartender said, coming up to them. ‘What can I get ya?’

‘Just water, Kev.’ Ian said, nodding in greeting. ‘Meds.’

‘Ah yes. _Meds._ ’ Kev poured Ian a glass of water and set it down in front of him, before walking off to serve a bunch of other people.

Ian cleared his throat. ‘I uh. I enjoyed our talks over the past few days.’

Mickey rolled his eyes. ‘I didn’t really like being woken up at the asscrack of dawn, but yeah.’

‘It’s weird actually talking to you now.’ Ian said, sipping his water. ‘It’s probably weirder for you, seeing as this is the first memory you’ll have of me.’

‘Hah. Yeah.’ Mickey thumbed his nose and swirled the last of his beer around in the glass. ‘It was my sister’s birthday. Alcohol was the only way I could deal with her stupid friends.’

‘You were a funny drunk, man. Shit jokes, but you were hilarious.’

‘Wow, thanks.’

‘I really like you though.’ Ian was talking seriously now. ‘I want to see you again.’ Mickey raised his eyebrows and said nothing in reply, making Ian sigh with frustration. ‘You wanna come with me to work? We can talk after..?’

Mickey looked sidelong at Ian and picked up his phone. He sent a text to the number now saved as “Ian” in his phone.

 

_yeah okay. never thought i'd like a redhead with a stupid magic 8 ball case on his phone._

_so you like me?_

_yeah_

_wanna go somewhere after i finish work?_

_sure. it'd be nice to remember fucking you for a change_

Beside him, Ian snorted as he received the text. His fingers tapped quickly on the screen before Mickey’s phone went off.

 

_if we’re gonna do this, we need to learn to actually talk, you know_

_that’s just super... but you’re right_

_so we’re gonna do this?_

_do what_

_become a thing_

_i thought we already were a thing_

_does that mean i can kiss you right now then_

_do you have to_

_yes_

Mickey sighed and didn’t even have time to move his gaze over to Ian before there were lips against his own. Turned out that getting blindingly drunk and having a clone phone was the best thing that ever happened to him. Texting some redheaded guy with a dorky magic 8 ball case for nine days was how it began, and was something he thanked all deities for. Saying as much was something he put in his weddings vows a few years later.


End file.
